Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
One day earlier . . .
My hands stroke leisurely across bare skin as I saunter through the throne room. Bodies are piled on either side of me. Women consuming and feeding on pleasure, while males writhe in ecstasy below and above them.
Nothing but lust and energy fill the room.
My skin glows from within as I feed on it, as it flows through me and back out to my fellow succubi in the room.
Energy is shared, gathered, and taken. There’s nothing like it.
I can taste the moment of release on my tongue.
My skin is stroked by a thousand hands and mouths, every nerve in my body vibrating with ecstasy, and I lose myself in the lavish feast. My dress is slipped off by exploring hands, and I am left in nothing but my diamond-covered heels.
My eyelids flutter open, and my gaze lands on the empty throne.
My mother isn’t here tonight. She chose her partner for the evening and split off.
Succubi are not ones for shame or embarrassment, but being queen is hard.
Sometimes, she wishes to feed privately, and when she does, I step into her place to control our people and be the face of who we are.
As rethia, or queen-to-be in our native tongue, it is my duty. I am just as responsible for these people as she is and they know it.
My curled blonde hair sweeps over my shoulder as I turn to take in the night, each strand tamed to perfection.
I look immaculate, my face glowing as if diamonds are trapped within my skin, my eyes naturally darkened and outlined, and my lips coloured perfectly to match my cheeks.
Our kind is meant to be beautiful, and our genetics ensure we are.
Perfection, it is what we all are. Every woman here is the most beautiful person I have ever seen. They have an array of body shapes, sizes, hair colours, and skin colours. They create a sea of beauty around me.
Grinning, I prowl through their midst and stop at the chaise lounge before the throne. Sinking down gracefully, I lie on my side, my head propped up on my fist as I cross my legs and watch.
It doesn’t take long. It never does.
My prey always comes to me, desperate to be fed and used.
A man crawls towards me, begging for a scrap of my attention.
He knows I can give him ecstasy like no other.
Everyone wants to align themselves with the most powerful person in the room, even for a night.
Every succubus here is strong, but none more so than me—not even my mother.
She takes great pride in having produced the most powerful succubus of a generation.
Succubi are not a monogamous race or known for relationships in general.
We take and feed, and the more partners we have, the better.
Men are only needed for that, and they know it.
It’s the only reason we keep them around.
They are born from our kind in this court, and others flock here, knowing it’s as close to power they will get within our kind.
Oh, they have a spark, don’t get me wrong, but they are not strong enough to be incubi.
They are basically human, and this is the best life they will ever get.
“Rethia.” He bows his head in respect. He’s familiar. I’ve had every man here at least once, which means I almost grow tired of them, wishing for new blood.
I crook my finger, summoning him in a way that indicates I will allow him to satisfy me for the night. He eagerly moves over and kneels before me. He’s definitely familiar . . . What was his name again?
Oh, it doesn’t matter. Who am I kidding? He’s handsome, they all are, which they get from their mothers. They are not otherworldly stunning, but attractive. This man has sparkling eyes and a pouty mouth made to be fucked. I think I’ll do just that. I bend my leg and press it to his chest.
“Kiss my shoe,” I murmur.
His eyes flare for a moment. They are all so strong when they first arrive, vowing never to be used, but they come to crave it.
That false sense of masculine defiance soon flees in the wake of the pleasure we give them.
They are not prisoners, after all, and they can leave whenever they wish. They simply all want to stay.
Turning his head, he presses his lips to my heel and kisses it, wrapping his fingers around my ankle and sliding it up my leg.
I arch a brow as I push him back with my heel, and he falls on his ass as I swing my legs around and lean back, parting them. “You may service your rethia.”
He slides forward eagerly, gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise, but I allow it. I will heal quickly, and I’ve never minded a bit of pain.
His mouth glides up my leg, and I roll my eyes as I drape my thighs over his shoulders. “No need to seduce me, male. Put your mouth to work or I will find someone else who can.”
His lips purse in annoyance, but he settles between my thighs and presses his mouth to my cunt.
His tongue darts out and laps at my clit with sure, strong movements.
I tap his shoulder, and his eyes roll up to mine.
“Faster,” I demand. He speeds up, sliding his fingers inside me as I groan and roll my hips, chasing my release.
“I said faster, not harder,” I snap as another man approaches me.
I nod to let him know he can join, and others flock over, realising I’m accepting more than one partner this evening.
Hands slide around my chest and cup my breasts, massaging them, before mouths latch onto each nipple. Those hands slide away, eagerly stroking my skin as someone kisses down my throat. All of their attention is on me and my pleasure, knowing when I come, they will as well.
The man between my thighs pushes one of the men aside and tries to drag me closer, away from them.
Reaching down, I grip his hair, making him hiss when I yank his head back.
“Don’t be greedy. You know better. You take what I give you and nothing more. You are not enough to satisfy me.” I arch a brow. “Either you understand that or you can leave. There are hundreds who are desperate to take your place right now.”
“Yes, rethia, I am sorry,” he whispers sullenly and slinks down between my thighs. I let him go as his tongue drags up my cunt and he adds a third finger, stretching me. I relax back into the other hands and mouths, closing my eyes as pleasure spirals through me as I use them.
I can taste their lust, and I drink it down, absorbing it into my skin. My power grows as their desire does.
The man between my thighs digs his teeth into my clit, and I narrow my eyes in warning. Is he trying to punish me for allowing others to touch me? I memorise his face in case it happens again, but he soothes his tongue over it before sliding it inside me, making me relax once more.
I’m close, so I pull him nearer, rocking into his mouth and fingers, using him until my release crests and I fall over the precipice with an audible sigh, my legs shaking as my heart hammers.
My pleasure slams into them. They cry out, finding their releases. I drink down their reactions, soaking in every drop of cum and pleasure as my back arches in ecstasy and power courses through me from the feed.
When it subsides, I open my eyes and push them away now that I’m done. Sometimes, I will feed multiple times on the same partners, but the one between my thighs needs to be reminded of his place, and as rethia, I am happy to do so.
I lower my legs as he pants.
His lips and chin glisten with my release, his face is flushed from being fed on, and his trousers are stained at the front from his orgasm.
“Say thank you,” I order, not even breathless from their attention.
His brown eyes flare once more. He’s either newer or stronger than the others, but he bows his head, hiding his reaction from me. “Thank you, rethia, for allowing me to touch you.”
“Good boy,” I murmur as I stand and walk past him, forgetting his face the moment I do. I wander into the crowd to find my next feed, leaving the others behind to enjoy their post-release bliss.
My smile grows as I find my next partner, and the next.
When I am full, I stand outside on the balcony as the meal continues inside.
Leaning into the balustrade, I look at the garden.
The flowers are tilted towards the moon, and the trees that lead to the wilderness beyond call to me as I take a deep breath and allow the cold night air to wash through me.
“My daughter.” I turn to see my mother with a blanket hanging over her shoulders. She walks my way and drapes it across both of us as I press against her side.
She chuckles. “You are overflowing with power.”
“As are you.” We share a knowing smile as she strokes my hair like she has since I was a child. It doesn’t matter how old I get, she always does this.
I am her only offspring. She always struggled to conceive, and she calls me her miracle baby. Sometimes I feel sad when I witness the longing in her eyes as she watches the others with their large broods, but she seems content this evening.
“Did you know this is exactly why I built our manor here?” she remarks randomly. “These trees felt like home as soon as I saw them. Something about them . . .”
“Made you feel safe?” I supply, and when she nods, I smile. “I feel it too.”
Laughter echoes behind us as music begins to play, happiness spilling over from inside. All the children will be in bed by now, but that doesn’t stop the adults from enjoying the night and a successful feed.
“They look to you, you know?” my mother murmurs, and I find her looking back at our court.
“Even more than me now. They sense what is coming. They respect you, and moreover, they trust you.” She smiles at me with pride in her eyes.
I will take her throne, and while most mothers would be jealous, she isn’t. She is proud.
“My Elara, you have no idea how truly powerful you are, but one day, you will, and I cannot wait to see you ascend to the throne you were born to take.”